


I’m coming home

by AlexandriaLynn, freebatched



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Fluff, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-22
Updated: 2013-08-21
Packaged: 2017-12-24 06:45:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/936647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexandriaLynn/pseuds/AlexandriaLynn, https://archiveofourown.org/users/freebatched/pseuds/freebatched
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock's return</p>
            </blockquote>





	I’m coming home

**Author's Note:**

> Written by sbogirl.tumblr.com and d-o-m-i-n-i-k-k-i.tumblr.com
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

“Mary, have you seen my scarf?” John yelled from his room.

“The blue one?” he heard her yell back.

“Yes dear, i need it for the case...it’s my good luck charm”

John was rummaging through his closet, frustrated because he couldn’t remember the last time he saw it. Just as he was starting to really panic, Mary came through the door handing john the scarf. He clutched the soft material to his chest, breathing in the last part of his best friend he had left. It pained him to think about that day, to think about the fall. So he turned towards Mary to distract himself and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. “Thanks, love” he whispered because he didn’t trust his normal voice.

“Are you all set to go to dinner?” Mary supplied a harmless question, knowing John couldn't talk about what was really wrong with him

“I am now”, John replied with a smile. But he couldn’t help but think about all those times he went to dinner with Sherlock. All those times he ate with Sherlock watching him. They were walking, hand in hand, down the busy London street. Johns mind was consumed with thoughts of the late consulting detective but his fond memories were interrupted by Mary asking how long John could stay at dinner before he had to meet Lestrade for the case they were currently working.

“About an hour, I’ll text Lestrade to see when we should meet up” John then reached into his coat pocket and grabbed his mobile. He scrolled through his contacts until he reached the L’s. He didn’t have many people in his phonebook so he could see Sherlock’s name still entered in, even after all this time. He couldn’t force himself to delete it even though Mary said it might help with his grieving.  John still held on to a sliver of hope that it had all been some sort of wild mistake, that his best friend was still alive and that one day he’d get to see him again. But more often than not, Mary was the voice of reason, killing off any hope with logic. “How on earth could he have survived it john? he was brilliant, but he wasn't superman.”

John often wondered if he was making the right decision being with Mary. He thought he loved her, when they would be curled by each other on the couch watching telly. But when she would tell him he needed to forget about Sherlock and move on, he had his doubts.

Sure, it was sensible to marry her, John knew he was getting to the age where he should settle down and have some kids and maybe buy a nice house in the country. He knew that was what he should do, but in all truth it seemed rather boring. Sometimes the way he thought reminded him of his best friend. Hell, sometimes the way he acted reminded him of Sherlock. He would find himself tuning out Mary when he was deep in thought, and before he realized it she would be stomping off into the other room. He’d go and apologize of course but he didn’t understand why it bothered her so much. When Sherlock had done it to him, it didn’t phase him in the slightest.

“JOHN!” Mary yelled at him, breaking him out of his trance. shit he thought i’ve done it again. Once Mary got in one of her moods there was no getting her out of it so John quickly thought of a plan ( albeit a very simple one) to rectify the situation. “Sorry, dear. I just can’t think straight when you are looking so stunning. Is that a new dress?”

Mary quickly looked down at her dress she’s had since they first got together then glanced back up at John who had hopeful look on his face. “John, I’ve had this for ages. You should know that. I wore it on our first date” she said waiting for his response.

“I, uh, yes of course.” He managed to sputter out. It was quite obvious at this point he wasn't getting any tonight, so he focused on getting through the dinner as painlessly as possible before he could meet up with Lestrade and busy his mind with the new serial killer on the loose. When the arrived at the restaurant, John politely held the door open and they finally sat down for their meal.

Their waiter came over and offered them champagne, and gave them their menus. John couldn’t focus on choosing what he wanted to order. His mind was filled with memories of Sherlock. He didn’t understand why he was thinking about him so much tonight, he’s been on plenty of dinner dates with Mary and could always focus on her but for some reason tonight was different. Even now as he watched her lips move in a furious excitement about something he wasn't listening to, he was imagining how sherlocks deep voice would compete with his elegant lips for johns attention. Just as John thought Mary gave up trying to get his attention she waved a hand in front of his face and said “I’m going to the bathroom, when I come back can you please try to act like my boyfriend and stop ignoring me?” John smiled and said “Yeah I’m sorry, I’ve just got a lot on my mind”. Mary scoffed and said “John, if it’s about the case I think our relationship is a little more important.”

She sauntered off toward the loo and John felt a bit guilty for ignoring her. He picked up his menu and examined all of the choices and sipped on the glass of untouched champagne in front of him. John couldn’t help it when his thoughts slowly started to wander back to Sherlock. He thought of Sherlock’s eyes and the way they lit up when he got a text from Lestrade about a new case. He thought of Sherlock’s curly hair when he had just woken up. He thought about Sherlock’s tall, lean body underneath that perfectly fitted suit. John thought about the way Sherlock said his name and how it would make his heart flutter.

“John.” he would say. His voice velvety and warm. The memory of it was so vivid that John could practically feel the vibrations from the deep octave of Sherlock's voice. He did feel it, in fact. Just as surely as he could feel the long fingers that now rested on his shoulder. John looked up to see what he thought for a moment was a ghost, or maybe an angel. No, he was really here. Sherlock Holmes in the flesh.

John couldn’t hold in the tears that escaped his eyes. He wiped them away quickly and stood up.

“Sherlock? Wh-what? How?” He couldn’t believe that he was looking up at the man whom he buried all those years ago. He didn’t know what to do other than stare. Sherlock looked exactly as he did the last time John had seen him.

The last time he’d seen him... standing on top of that building. Telling john everything had been a lie. Making John watch as he fell to his (apparently faked) death. John was filled with pain and rage and then more pain. What had he done to drive Sherlock to fake his own death? What had he done to deserve the years of heartache that came from that terrible day?  John looked up at Sherlock and couldn’t decided whether he wanted to punch him for making him go through that or caress him because he was alive. Damn it. Sherlock was alive. He chose the latter and pulled Sherlock into an embrace. At first Sherlock didn’t know what to do, he wasn’t expecting this kind of welcome. But he soon relaxed and hugged John back.

**Author's Note:**

> To Be Continued


End file.
